I was in a good mood when I got back to the bookstore later that afternoon to talk to Harley. I’d already gotten my wishes stockpiled (I had seventy one), done some more training with Bella, and just generally had a fantastic day where I’d learned a lot. Sadly, my good mood didn’t last long in the face of Harley’s…Harleyness.

“Look man, I don’t remember.” The dark haired man yawned. “It was a long time ago. That was like…seventy five thousand naps ago.”

Frowning, I pointed around us. “I mean, we’re in a bookstore. I got the impression some of these books would cover, if not that subject, maybe the disappearances? It’s been two centuries, SOMEBODY has to have written a book about it.”

He blinked. “Hey, wow. That’s a great idea.” His brown eyes sparkled with excitement as his curly black hair flopped around, his head jerking to the side as he searched the messy stacks of nearby books. “You should check the books. They might have something about that whole thing!” He said it like he’d just had a brilliant epiphany, and I had to strangle a growl of annoyance.

“Where are the books on recent history?” I asked patiently, since I now thoroughly believed he would be no direct help.

He shrugged. “Over there.” He said lazily, gesturing to basically the entire store. Rolling my eyes, I turned to the store in general, and of course, Harley took that as an excuse to go back to sleep. Sighing, I walked to the door, opened it, and called out loudly for my apprentice.

There was a loud crash from the woods off in the distance, and I watched a plume of smoke rise from where a tree had been not long ago. I waited another second or two, and Bella appeared, blazing into existence with a flash of fire and actually managing to stand still when she stopped, though she wobbled a bit like she might fall over.

“What’s up, master?” She asked excitedly. “I’ve almost got the hang of this technique!”

I chuckled, pointing to her head, where a large piece of wood had gotten stuck in her hair by sap. She cursed, reaching up to try to pry it off, yelping at the pain when it pulled at her hair. I rolled my eyes and held up a finger, focusing a bit of black fire to the tip of it in a minute cosmic collapse and walking over to point at the wood, which exploded.

Given my new breakthrough, I suspected I could have actually tapped into both the black flame and the corrosion, even without my forms, but it would have been overkill for a piece of bark.

“I need your help with something.” I said with a laugh. “If you’re not busy.” She pouted at my teasing tone, but I just snickered and turned to walk back into the shop. “So. We need to find any references to the disappearances, or to the murder two hundred years ago. I’m positive they’re related, and we need to figure out where these people are going if we want to figure out the reasoning behind the murder.”

She frowned. “I mean, it’s kind of weird, isn’t it?” She said slowly. “These people who were taken were people no one would miss, right? So why would whatever is doing it come into town and kill a shopkeeper? That doesn’t fit the pattern at all. Are you sure it’s the same thing?”

“Assuming it is, which both common sense and my instincts seem to concur with…yeah.” I said in surprise. “It’s a huge breach in pattern. That’s a good catch, Bella. I should have thought of that.” In fact, Echelon had actually helped do a lot of my work for me with this. Maybe because of the trial.

Unfortunately, it just made it more frustrating that there were no witnesses and no one to talk to about the shopkee-. I stopped mid thought, replaying what I’d been told earlier today. Old Ted Donahue’s boy. I was still thinking like a mortal. If Ted junior had been murdered two hundred years ago, there was still a decent chance Ted Donahue was still ALIVE. If anyone would know what was going on with his son, it would be him.

“Bella, do me a favor, go through these books like we talked about. I’ll be back to help, but I just thought of something.” She gave me a sharp salute and picked up a random book, flipping through it and then tossing it on the counter before moving on to the next. Satisfied she had that under control, I headed back to the tavern, getting directions from bartender Kirk to Ted Donahue’s place.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

I was excited. Solving a mystery like this was kind of fun. Digging for clues, learning secrets, following leads. It made me wonder if I hadn’t become an Ascendant, if I’d have wanted to be a detective.

Maybe after this whole war thing was over and my time as Wishmaster ended, Callie and I could spend some time solving mysteries. I had a feeling my wife would enjoy this as much as I did.

Despite my exhilaration though, I forced myself to calm down and take an appropriately somber tone as I knocked on the door to Ted Donahue’s house. It didn’t take long to answer, after a few minutes, a tired looking man in what appeared to be his early forties answered the door, dark circles under his eyes and grey in his beard. “Ted Donahue?” I asked.

“Aye?” He asked tiredly. “What can I do for you?”

I grimaced, trying to decide how to word it. “I came to ask about your son.” His face hardened, and I held up my hands. “Please, I don’t want to dig into painful memories for some Path nonsense. I think it might be related to a case I’m working on.” It felt pretty awesome to be able to say that. That I was working a case.

He sighed, shoulders slumping. “Might as well come in.” He said with a shrug. “Not like I have much better to do.” He waved me inside, turning to head toward the small kitchen tucked behind an open bar in the back corner. “You want a beer?” He asked blankly.

“I’m good.” I said politely, scanning the room as he dug in the fridge. It was…neat. But cluttered. Lots of things packed into a small space, but none of it looked out of place. On the mantle I saw pictures of Ted with a younger boy who looked a lot like him, a teenager. Photos of them with a snowman, awards from contests they’d won, and even one with a smiling dark haired woman that only appeared in that single image.

He saw me looking when he came back. “Sylvia.” He said with a sad smile. “She was mauled by a mountain lion the same year. Beasts in these parts get antsy sometimes, and we have to send for a subjugation quest from one of the larger cities. My Sylvie had the bad luck to stumble on a wildcat. I’m ashamed to say I didn’t take it as well as I could have. Left too much work on Teddy’s shoulders.”

I heard the guilt and regret in the sentiment, and easily followed it to its logical conclusion. “Like the shop?”

“It was a weekend.” He said tightly. “He shouldn’t have even been there. He wanted weekends off. But I was too drunk to open.” He closed his eyes, voice jagged with grief. “I let myself fall apart and now my boy’s gone. You mark my words, lad. A parent should never outlive their child. Ain’t nothing worse.”

“I’m sorry.” I said truthfully. “I’m sorry to bring this up. But like I said, I think it might be related to a case I’m working. Did Teddy do anything strange or different in the weeks leading up to his death? If you don’t remember that’s fine-”

His eyes snapped open, narrowing at me in fury. “And who says I don’t?” He snapped. “Who says I forgot the last days I had in this world with my son. You ask your questions, boy, and you see if I don’t answer them! I’m good for that much still. Good for somethin’.”

“I know he was…I guess the local word would be courting, some girl named Dana-” I started.

He burst out laughing, a genuine smile on his face. “Only in his dreams, boy. Dana Cassidy never had eyes for nobody but Brady Thornton, whom she eventually married. She was friendly enough, but never gave my son or Harley the time of day aside from polite chitchat. No, they ‘admired’ her from afar, and argued themselves stupid over the girl, but neither of them had a chance.”

“So you don’t think Harley did it?” I didn’t either, but I’d met the guy for all of five minutes.

“Maybe if he was sleepwalking.” He snickered. “No, Harley didn’t hurt my boy. Doesn’t have it in him. I saw the body. Had to identify him. Wasn’t no bookstore clerk that killed him. That was trained knifework. A Skill, most like. I was in the army when I was a lad, and I saw men killed like that. Killed cold. Whoever did that knew what they were doin’ and they didn’t spare it no nevermind.”

I nodded slowly. “Did you tell the constable?”

“Until I was blue in the face.” He said with a shrug. “But I was just a grieving drunk. Ain’t nobody minding me.”

“So what about the weeks before.” I prompted. “DID anything strange happen?”

He looked pensive. “Well…I’d never really paid it any mind. But maybe. He started asking me some questions about his ma. Where she liked to take her walks, if she knew how to fight. Dab hand with a long knife, my Sylvie. Damned cat must have surprised her.”

“Really?” I asked in a faux casual tone. “That’s an interesting thing to bring up out of nowhere. Where did it happen, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Snapping out of his reverie, his eyes narrowed again. “Up by Deadman’s Drain. The falls. She used to go up there to pick blackberries. They grow wild up on the ledges. Prickly, but sweetest damned berries you ever saw. She was making a pie for Teddy’s birthday.” He said absently. “Blackberry was his favorite.”

I winced, realizing from the timeline his sons birthday was probably very close to the time he was killed. Not that anything could make losing a child worse, but still…that definitely wouldn’t have helped.

But the last thing he’d done…that was interesting. His mother’s death had been an animal attack. But him dying so close to poking around about it couldn’t be a coincidence. Had the mysterious killer slipped up and left a corpse. Were there clues up at the falls maybe? I smiled at Ted. “I appreciate your time, Mr. Donahue. Sorry to bother you.”

He shrugged, not even bothering to comment one way or the other. I said my goodbyes quickly and left, heading back to the bookstore to check in with Bella, a new lead in my pocket. The falls, animal attacks, plenty of possibilities to check.

As I walked, I thought to myself of what I would do if I lost a child like that. I didn’t even have kids and the idea was unbearable. Then I thought about my mom. She’d lost a child, in some ways. Had been forced to give me up for my own good. Had she been like Ted, after I was gone? Drowning in her grief? Or had Chelsea saved her?

Whatever the case, I sent a quick message to my wife, to let my mother know I loved her. It didn’t cost me anything to say, and it made me feel better. Then I arrived at the bookstore and stepped inside. For now, I needed to focus on the task at hand.